Sirocco and the Kingdom of the Winds

By Sebastian Torrelio

In the sparsest year for animation in some time, France has quietly put out what has been highlighted by the press as an “oddity.” Sirocco and the Kingdom of the Winds sports Juliette & Carmen, two young sisters staying with their neighbor Agnés for a spontaneous sleepover. Upon the first recess of supervision, they stumble into one of Agnés’ authored children’s books, are re-imagined as human-sized cats and seized by fantastically unevolved creatures. Within the book’s confinement they are assisted by Selma, an avian opera singer, who has connections to both the author’s past and to the most powerful figure in the land, the air-bound and unpredictable magician Sirocco.

Chieux’s Annecy Audience Award-winning feature is as simple as the art-house form ever presents itself, a fairy tale guided by so many instantaneous decisions the room to breathe compresses just short of heart-stopping. As Juliette and Carmen stumble into their neighbor’s tales, so does curiosity bite their new cat-like instincts near immediately, finding them in various states of ownership, imprisonment, freedom, and heroic resplendence within as little as 30 minutes of runtime. Nothing about Sirocco is hard to follow, a credit to Chieux’s knack for embedding a child’s perspective into his wonderland of immense proportions, yet the story’s constant moving target of new objectives does hinder its otherwise easygoing nature. Even in the opening minutes, the rug is pulled out by a change of perspective, the protagonist quickly redirected from a sleepy Agnés to the children’s hurricane of energy.

For what may prove more divisive in the Kingdom of Winds is Chieux’s choice of art-style. Sirocco is not crude-looking, per se, but intentionally rough and sparse in between the lines. Layers of atmosphere and Earthly settings in Selma’s world are rendered in light, ambient colors, near nothing to saturation, over layers of even further comparable color swatches. The character designs, aside from Selma herself, are rather spare – crowds of minions, flying beasts and assistants all with a bulb-like rounded figure, clone-like blobs fighting frenetic stick-limbed beings. Even the first fantastical character Juliette and Carmen encounter, a small wooden toy, humorously reminded me of a cheap Adult Swim character. Still, many will find the minimalism of anything presented at two dimensional-face value as charming these days.

Far and away, Sirroco’s biggest asset is its score – classical and orchestral, booming in its symphony, particularly in the theatrical setting it will get minimal playtime for in the United States. For all its public anime comparisons, the music of Sirocco is what ties it closest to recent Studio Ghibli efforts, a bountiful mixture of adventure and climactic overture to soundtrack the sights of Selma’s overhead journey. French vocalist Célia Kameni provides Selma’s singing voice, a baroque operatic performance that stuns in its un-poplike nature, her gorgeous, sustained notes an instrument in their own right.

If this review did not imply otherwise, Selma’s very existence is the only thing that holds Sirocco together as a story. Strong and goodhearted, but not without emotion, she keeps the value of a more considered, budgetary (real world) animation intact while engaging with naivete at every plot turn. Her most sagely words of wisdom echo what Chieux may have thought bringing her into this world: “Such a shame. The audience gets to see what artists they want. But the artists do not get to choose their audience.” With its bounty of unrestrained whimsy, Sirocco will be buried under other European efforts into the second half of this year, where it will advocate on its own modern merits for adolescent viewing attention. It should nevertheless not go unnoticed – many of life’s most pleasant joys are better stumbled upon, or into, anyway.

Seen at Laemmle Royal, Los Angeles

Paris, 13th District

If you’re a secret fan of love triangles but actually an art-house film snob, Paris 13th District is for you. You have your art-house credentials, with Jacques Audiard directing and Celine Sciamma writing, as well as a smooth black and white film. But you also have a light, free-flowing script with lots of sex that doesn’t slow down, making it an easy watch for anyone wanting to tune out.

Paris 13th District isn’t deep. There doesn’t appear to be any hidden subtext to either of the character’s narratives. Some of the scenes even feel a little contrived, particularly the scene in a university lecture hall in which all of the students start watching videos of a chat room girl and making fun of Nora for looking just like her. In an otherwise relatable film of 20-30 somethings, this scene stands out – making you think that the writers might actually be a bit out of touch with the young adult’s reality. But luckily the depth isn’t needed thanks to the lightness of the film. It flows so smoothly that you won’t have time to think about why it was made.

The lightness comes from a range of things. Firstly, there’s the clean simplicity of the black and white film that takes away any noise. This is supported by the simple soundtrack with synth bursts that cleanly separate the breaks between each narrative. Secondly, there’s the free characters. Even though each one has their own problems – Emilie has family drama, Nora is bullied, and Camille has his own grief – they never feel serious. Instead they appear free to do anything they like – each one quickly changes their career as if it were starting a new day. Camillie suddenly becomes a real-estate agent after dropping out of his masters, Nora starts her law degree in her 30’s before dropping out to rejoin a career in sales, and Emilie doesn’t even feel burdened to work. Their free-flowing careers comes across as a bit of a jab at millennials from the older screenwriters of the film. All of them are played as fragile characters that change their mind and lack commitment. However, it does make the film feel lighter – they all live in a city in which their troubles don’t feel that serious and in which they can change their direction in an instant.

So if you’re looking for a light relationship drama with art-house credentials, Paris 13th District is worth a watch. Whilst it’s arguably a bit out of touch, it is an easy watch for anyone looking for a break from the more challenging film festival fare.


Head to our AFI Fest 2021 Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2021.